Rebecca
His lips.
God his lips feel amazing. I can’t deny it.
He’s a damn good kisser. Not too soft and not too aggressive. My face doesn’t feel like it’s being coated in saliva either.
Unlike with some fucking assholes.
The kiss is so good that I moan a little.
He groans in response.
Killian’s muscular arms wrap around me as he continues to kiss me. He pulls me closer to him, and I can feel his arousal against my belly. My body responds with a shiver of pleasure.
I’m starting to feel overheated, and I don’t think it’s because of that coffee I drank. My nipples harden, and liquid heat rises from down below.
My arms seem to have a mind of their own, rising to grip his head and deepen the kiss further.
I pull his hair, and he responds by holding me tighter.
The urge to jump on him and wrap my legs around him overcomes me.
Bad Rebecca. Do not do that.
It drives me freaking crazy, the way he can make me think of nothing but what he’s doing to me—and the way my body is desperate to respond to his touch.
I don’t want to stop kissing him. It feels too good to even consider wanting to stop.
But that thought, the thought of not wanting to stop, is like a bucket of ice water dumped on me. I gasp, and finally push him away.
What the hell am I thinking?
Fuck.
I would’ve never expected my time in Ireland to turn out like this.
The one thing I rationally hoped for, to get some work done on one of my biggest contracts yet, hasn’t really come to pass.
Okay. There’s no way to pretend I’ve even started on that.
But these rolling green meadows have brought me somewhere I never would’ve expected to end up. They’ve brought me here.
I hadn’t been able to predict this, so I should stop pretending to be able to predict anything. But I’m not ready to make any more grand decisions.
Not now.
Killian’s regarding me with tenderness, with concern—and that’s not helping my attempt at keeping a rational goddamn thought process going.
Rationality seems too difficult when he’s right here, underneath this gorgeous night sky.
With the memories of Killian bringing me to new realms of pleasure still so fresh in my mind, my cheeks burn, and I glance away from him, letting out a little cough for emphasis.
Things are moving too fast with him. It’s not fair to Killian either, to lead him on.
I blame the damn night. This beautiful, temperate damn spring night. With air that’s so clean and rich you feel like you’ll live to be a hundred and fifty just by breathing it every day.
I’m not even sure why everyone in Ireland likes to drink so much.
This place is plenty intoxicating as it is.
And just like intoxication with alcohol, intoxication by moonlight, by natural beauty, by the aroma of the green pastures surrounding us, can be a problem.
Intoxication is a crazy bitch that makes you do crazy things.
Killian is standing there waiting for me to say something.
“Uh, maybe we should head back inside. It’s pretty cold out, and the last thing either one of us needs is to catch a cold,” I state.
Killian looks at me.
Assessing me.
Slowly, that damn cocky grin appears on his face.
The nighttime silence is broken with his low chuckle.
“It’s pretty cold out here, love. I’ll walk you back home.”
“Ok. Home. Home is good,” I awkwardly say as we start to walk in the general direction of our cottages.
When we get to my door, I’m going to shake his hand and say goodnight.
Leave him outside of your cottage, Rebecca. Don’t let him in.
My hands twitch at my side as we walk.
Not because I’m nervous, but because I can’t stop thinking of running my hands through his hair again. Then over his well-sculpted chest.
I shake my head.
The heat and arousal has consumed my body again. It’s just the clean, unspoiled Irish air.
Killian moves closer to me and brushes against my arm.
I jump slightly. My skin feels sensitive, and his arm brushing against mine causes a full-body shiver to roll through me.
And it feels so fucking good.
The cottage appears in the distance—the front porch light is on.
Crisp night air fills my lungs. Wisps of grass brushes against our shoes.
Neither one of us says anything, but an odd air of unease fills the air between us.
Finally, we arrive at my front doorstep. Keys clink as I try to unlock the door. I can feel Killian’s presence behind me.
Suddenly, I feel his warm breath brush the back of my neck. But then it starts to feel cold again.
Like he’s backing away. Like he’s leaving.
That should be just fine by me—but I can’t get myself to go inside.
“Are you leaving?” I ask, still facing the door.
“Isn’t that what you’d like?”
His voice sounds like he’s stopped dead in his tracks now, waiting to hear what I have to say next.
I stay facing the door. “Why would you think that, Killian?”
“You’re not even looking at me, Becks. What am I supposed to think?”
One thing I can say about Killian is that he makes valid points when he wants to. I spin around to find him standing ten feet away, half turned towards his cottage, still waiting with baited breath to see what else I have to say.
“Why don’t you just come inside, Killian? We both obviously want that. And we both obviously understand that it’s just...fun.”
“Is that how you really feel?”
“It’s just sex, Killian. No feeling and no emotions. Just pleasure and fun between two adults.”
Killian nods calmly, taking a few tentative steps towards my cottage.
“I can handle that.”
“Okay, then.”
“Rebecca?”
“Yeah?”
Killian stops, the moment he steps on my front porch, smiling impishly as I stare at him.
“Open the door, love, so I can take your sweet ass to bed now.”
Lock clicks.
Feet over the threshold.
Killian moves past me. Front door slams close with us inside. In the next moment, Killian has me pressed against a wall, his lips crash into mine.
I pull on his hair.
Now, I’ve decided to give into the burning desire Killian creates in me every time I’m around him. I’m desperate for everything.
For his kiss. For his skin to be pressed against mine.
For him to be inside me and for the exquisite pleasure I know only he can give me.
Our lips break away. I lift his shirt up, and he helps in pulling it off completely. His hands grip the front of my shirt, and he rips it open.
Buttons go flying.
“Jesus. You’re gorgeous,” Killian states as he stares at me.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I respond staring at his toned and chiseled chest.
Killian grabs me by the hips, lifting me up. My legs immediately wrap around his waist. Rocking my hips against him, I can feel his arousal through his jeans.
He’s definitely well-endowed.
“Killian. I need you. Now!”
He groans. We start moving towards the bedroom.
He throws me down on the mattress. I bounce and let a playful giggle out. I sit up, looking him in the eyes, as I throw my shirt off.
Arms reach back.
Bra clasp unclips. Slowly, I slide the straps off my shoulders.
I know it’s seductive by the way Killian’s breath hitches and his pupils dilate.
“Lie back, love. I’ll be the one to take care of the rest of your clothes,” Killian rasps.
I do as he says. His fingers caress me from my neck, down my chest, over my stomach, and pause at the edge of my jeans.
He stills for a second, gazing at where his fingers graze my skin.
Then, he pops the button on my jeans, and all that’s heard in the room are the deep shallow breaths coming from us and the growl of my zipper being pulled down.
Everything then moves in a whirlwind. Killian yanks my jeans, along with my panties, off.
I lay there naked. I watch in awe as he undresses the rest of the way. He stands there in all his naked glory.
He crawls up the bed and over my body.
“This is going to fun,” he growls.
I smile a cocky grin up at him like the one he has flashed at me on several occasions. An idea forms in my head. I wrap my legs around him, grip his shoulders, and use my body weight to push him onto his back.
Now on top, I wiggle my hips a little and feel him harden even more.
He lets loose a deep groan.
“You’re right. This is going to be fun,” I state.